


If You Don't Let It Out

by RainyDayParade



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bestiality, Established Relationship, It's RIGHT THERE ok?, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Other, Praise Kink, if you don't like it, then don't read it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyDayParade/pseuds/RainyDayParade
Summary: Connor discovers something unexpected about Hank.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, okay? LISTEN. I'm not gonna justify this, but come on. I have a sibling incest petplay fic on this account, are we really surprised?
> 
> I hope I don't have to warn you all that having sex with animals, owning videos of people having sex with animals, and making videos of people having sex with animals is illegal and morally reprehensible. DON'T DO IT. This fic is NOT me telling you to do it. It is me exploring this fetish in fiction.
> 
> The title of this fic is from The Calendar, by Panic! At The Disco.
> 
> EDIT: look, y’all. I keep getting people telling me in the comments that bestiality is wrong and morally reprehensible. As if it isn’t something I literally said IN THESE AUTHOR NOTES. Is fucking dogs wrong? Yes, absolutely. Sexual contact with any animal is literally animal abuse. I know this. You know this.
> 
> Is writing fiction that you have warned everyone is MORALLY REPREHENSIBLE and ABSOLUTELY INADVISABLE wrong? No. Because I am an adult who understands the difference between what is okay in fiction and reality, and my readers should be, too (since this is an explicit fic, and therefore hidden from minors).
> 
> Like, look. People write about murderers all the goddamn time. Does that mean they think murdering people is okay? No! Because they’re adults with a healthy separation between fiction and reality! And if you aren’t a mature adult, you shouldn’t be reading this anyway!
> 
> So get off my dick. Fucking dogs is bad, I’ve said it at LEAST twice at this point. I’m not GONNA take the fic down.

It was only a matter of time, really; Hank’s laptop is older (at least from 2030; it has a transfer port for androids, but it is very clunky), and it is clear he has gotten used to being the only person who uses it. It doesn’t help that Connor, connected to the CyberLife network, does not need a laptop to access the internet and usually has no reason to use Hank’s.

But of course there comes a day where Hank needs a file, the file is on Hank’s laptop, and Hank is too busy to get it. “Connor, could you go to the house and transfer the file?” he asks distractedly, typing at his computer.

“Is it not on the DPD server, Lieutenant?” Connor asks curiously, picking up his coat.

“Nah,” he says, sitting back in his seat and stretching with a groan. Connor eyes Hank’s stomach where his shirt rides up, before dragging his gaze back to Hank’s face. Hank does not notice. “It ended up being useless for the case I had it for, and it felt weird deleting a document involved with a case, so I just left it on my computer.”

“Do you not have your documents backed up on a cloud?” Connor asks in confusion.

“I don’t trust _clouds_ ,” Hank says with a derisive sneer. “Back when I was a rookie, seemed like they got hacked all the time.”

“There are a few different incidents reported from the early- to mid-2010s,” Connor says thoughtfully. “Are you talking about--”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Hank says emphatically. “Seemed like a different fucking company got hacked every damn week. Got in the habit of not using ‘em.”

“Cyber security is much stronger these days,” Connor reminds him. “Maybe you should consider it. I’ve seen your laptop; it doesn’t seem like it will last much longer.”

“You leave Bessie outta this,” Hank grouses good-naturedly. “And get outta here. We need that file sooner rather than later. It’s in the documents folder, you can’t miss it.”

Which is how Connor finds himself on the couch at home, downloading Hank’s computer’s entire memory. He keeps it in his personal memory files, to respect Hank’s wishes about not putting them on the cloud. He sits back on the couch and closes his eyes.

The out-of-date OS by which Bessie operates presents itself strangely in Connor’s mind. Icons of folders float around freely, labeled with their name and file type. He reaches out and touches the folder labeled ‘Pictures,’ which explodes into miscellaneous photos and photo folders. A photo of Cole floats past, and though he knows it isn’t possible, it feels as if Connor’s thirium pump skips a beat with grief. This file hasn’t been accessed since it was uploaded to the computer. He exits the Pictures folder, respectfully leaving the rest of the photo folders alone.

He calls up the Documents folder and frowns once he accesses it. Almost every file is titled ‘Document’ and then the number in which it was saved. The only ones with titles do not seem to be what Connor is looking for, named things like ‘2030 Taxes’ and ‘Possible Dog Names.’ _Your documents are not very well organized, Hank_ , Connor texts.

 _just bring me the damn laptop and ill find it myself_ , Hank texts back. Connor just hums in disagreement and accesses another folder floating around titled ‘Important Documents.’

It is not important documents. It _is_ pornography.

With a thoughtful frown, Connor traces the file tree to find where this one was probably buried. “...Ah,” he finally murmurs. It had been buried three folders deep under the Documents umbrella. The way his mind processed Bessie’s OS must have shaken it out of hiding. He thinks for a moment, then taps the folder. Another set of folders bursts apart, and Connor gazes at them thoughtfully.

Connor considers himself polite, but he is also _burning_ with curiosity. He and Hank have been in a physical relationship for several months by now, and according to the timestamps, most of these files have not been opened since before then. He accesses folder labeled ‘MF,’ and is greeted by another list of folders; creampie, public, squirting. Connor wrinkles his nose a little - it all seems very messy, and he exits the folder disinterestedly. The next is labeled ‘MM,’ and the folders within are labeled similarly to the previous folder’s files. He opens the file titled ‘bareback,’ and his eyes widen with what he finds.

The folder is full of thumbnails of videos, and the older ones seem pretty generic; a larger man topping a smaller one, rolling around on beds and couches and floors. The newer videos, however, follow a _distinct_ trend. An older man dominating a younger man; an older man dominating a younger man with dark hair; an older man dominating a younger man with dark hair and _moles_. However, as far as Connor can tell, all participants are human.

Even as he can feel his internal temperature rising in a facsimile of a blush, Connor can’t help but feel flattered. Timestamps indicate these videos were downloaded and seen around the same time he and Hank were dancing around each other to the tune of _will he, won’t he._ He has to admit, as he shifts in his seat on the couch in an effort to stave off his arousal: Hank has done a great job trying to find their duplicates. From behind, a few of these men look exactly like them.

He exits the folder, fully intending to close out of the entire porn folder and resume his search for Hank’s elusive document, when another folder catches his eye. ‘DM.’ His eyebrows furrow in confusion. MF is clearly Male-Female relations, while MM is Male-Male. Before he can convince himself to cease intruding on Hank’s privacy, he enters the folder.

It’s...dogs. Dogs mounting men. Men performing oral sex on male dogs. There are none of men penetrating dogs, and each man in each video is on the younger side. He exits the folder for a moment and sees another: ‘DF.’ Dog-Female, presumably. Connor is not interested in that, though, and returns to the DM folder. Most of the videos are much older, but the newer ones follow much the same trend as the videos in the MM folder - the men in these videos _greatly_ resemble Connor, and some of them are even androids.

Connor closes out of the search and opens his eyes, troubled. Sumo is unneutered, he knows, but he’d thought it more out of Hank’s laziness than anything else. Has Hank…?

But Connor thinks of Hank’s own preferences. He never asks Connor to be on top, and when Connor had asked why, Hank had just replied, “I dunno, I’ve never enjoyed butt stuff myself. Tried it, of course, but I prefer fuckin’.” Crude, but clear. And none of the men in the videos have even a passing resemblance to Hank.

(Hank had also asked Connor if he’d like to try being on top, but Connor had decided not to. He enjoys being on the receiving end, and doesn’t think Hank’s discomfort is worth him figuring out whether he also enjoys being on the delivering end.)

So...Hank wants to see Connor being penetrated by a dog. By Sumo, probably. There is not much Connor wouldn’t do if Hank asked him, but does Connor want to do this? It’s highly illegal, first off. Second, what they have right now is good; is there any reason, really, to change that? Not to mention, the idea of being mounted by the dog is strange, and while Connor doesn’t exactly feel repulsed by the very idea, it still seems...weird.

He resolves to think on it later. He has the document Hank needs in his databanks, even if he’s not completely sure which it is yet, and the case isn’t solved yet. He gives Sumo a gentle pat on the head before he leaves, and heads out into the sun.

 

* * *

 

While the document _is_ helpful, the case still rages on for a couple weeks longer. Hank sleeps deeply at night, and Connor takes the time when he isn’t in standby mode or rest mode to think more deeply on this whole...dog situation. He likes it when Hank has intercourse with him, likes it when he takes it slow and likes it when they go hard and fast. They have not ventured into using toys or bondage, but he knows Hank has considered it, and Connor will not lie and say he isn’t curious enough to give it a try.

Bestiality, however, is not something Connor ever would have thought about. It isn’t something he would have ever thought Hank would have considered. But clearly he has, so now it is something that Connor wants to consider as well. He closes his eyes and accesses his memory banks.

At Hank’s request, Connor has deleted Bessie’s data from his memory banks; but he has not been able to make himself delete the Important Documents folder. He opens one of the older videos, just a young man under a dog. It’s terrible quality, clearly taped with a computer camera, but the boy’s voice comes through clear, gasping and moaning as the dog humps him with quick, hard strokes.

The camera is angled _just_ well enough that Connor can see when the dog’s knot slips out, and oh. That is. Hm. He can definitely see how that would seem arousing. He rewinds it and watches again as the boy gives a sharp cry and thin semen rushes out of him as the knot pops out.

Connor closes the video and assesses his reaction to it. There is _definitely_ arousal, and a curiosity regarding the sensation. He opens another video, a more recent one of an android being penetrated by a _very_ large dog.

This one is more professionally shot; or, Connor supposes, as professionally as an illegal video _can_ be shot. The blond android is on all fours on a bed with his face pressed into the clothed thigh of a man sitting next to his head. “Are you ready?” the man asks, and Connor sees the android nod. The person holding the camera pats the android’s hip, and a German Shepherd hops onto the bed and immediately mounts the android.

The dog is trained well enough that he doesn’t seem to need guidance, and immediately begins thrusting into the android. He cries out into the man’s pants, and the man slowly starts petting the android’s hair. The camera focuses in on the android’s entrance, where the dog’s knot is still slipping in and out. “You’re doing so well, boy, taking the knot so well,” the man quietly praises offscreen, and Connor shivers where he’s sitting on the couch. The knot finally catches, and the android cries out as the knot tugs at his rim.

“Shh, deep breaths now, come on, my boy.” The camera pans over to the android’s head, face still pressed into the man’s leg. His ear is red and his shoulders heaving with his gasps. The man is still petting his hair, thumb stroking gently behind the shell of his ear. “How does it feel?” The android whimpers and shakes his head. “C’mon now, my boy. How are you feeling?”

“ _Full_ ,” the android gasps, turning his face enough to speak. His features are still indiscernible. “It’s good. I want--touch me, _please_ , it’s so _much_.” The dog has stilled on top of the android, panting happily as he waits for the knot to go down. The cameraperson moves for a side shot, and the man reaches around to start stroking the android’s erection.

The android comes after only a few strokes, and Connor’s eyebrows rise with interest. What does it feel like, that he would be aroused enough to come so quickly? Personal preference probably plays into it, but now Connor cannot deny his interest in trying this with Hank. He skips past more hair-petting (though he does stop to listen to the praise occasionally; the gentle words and touches are something that are _greatly_ adding to his experience) to nearer the end of the video, when the knot finally slides out, along with a copious amount of semen and a weak whimper from the android.

Connor closes out of the video and opens his eyes. The shadows on the wall across from the couch haven’t moved much at all since he sat on the couch to consider these possibilities. He stands and walks to the bedroom, stopping for a moment to look at Hank, asleep in bed. The moonlight streaming through the windows puts the lines of his face in sharp relief, and Connor can only think of how devastatingly _handsome_ his Lieutenant Anderson is. Connor changes quietly into his pajamas (chosen for him by Hank, of course; Connor had not thought they were necessary at the time, but now cannot imagine going to bed without them. They’re so _soft_ ) and climbs into bed next to Hank.

“Mm? Conn’r?” Hank slurs, rousing a little.

“Yes, Hank. It’s me,” Connor replies quietly. “Go back to sleep. We have work in the morning.” Hank merely grunts and rolls over, slinging an arm around Connor’s waist. Connor smiles softly, resting a hand on Hank’s wrist, and goes into Sleep Mode.


	2. Chapter 2

The case _finally_ ends, and Hank and Connor are relegated to filling out reports and filing evidence. It isn’t very stimulating work, and it always makes Hank antsy and hungry for action.

He is always more vigorous in bed during times like these. Connor decides it is the perfect time to strike.

“Hank.”

“What,” Hank grunts, polishing off the rest of the his dinner. (Takeout tonight; Chief Fowler had kept them late, and there had not been time for Connor to cook when they’d arrived home. Connor is not happy about the extra calories and grease, but it is better than Hank not eating at all.)

Back to the task at hand. “I want you to watch Sumo have intercourse with me.”

If not for the sound of the television in the background, Connor would have thought time stopped. Hank stares at him in a combination of confusion and disbelief, as if he isn’t sure he’s heard Connor correctly. “Hank, I said—”

“I heard you,” Hank says shortly. His eyes rove over Connor’s face for a moment, then he groans, standing and taking his plate to the sink. “Shouldn’t have fuckin’ let you on my computer. God _dammit_. Too much to ask you to respect my privacy, huh?”

“I agree that I was out of line,” Connor says. “But I must admit, I wasn’t expecting what I found at all.”

“That’s because I _tried to keep it secret_ ,” Hank emphasizes, washing his plate vigorously. Hm. He must truly be upset to actually take part in chores, even if it is just to avoid looking at Connor.

“I apologize for overstepping boundaries,” Connor tries. Hank only grunts, which is fair; Connor often apologizes for things that he doesn’t try to avoid doing in the future, such as putting suspicious liquids in his mouth or running headfirst into dangerous situations. “I understand why you are upset, but I can assure you that I have told no one and kept the file only in my personal encrypted memory banks.” Hank doesn’t even dignify that with a response, which Connor _also_ thinks is fair.

Once Hank finishes with the dishes, he just stands at the sink, hands braced on the counter. Connor can see his knuckles turning white with the strength of him clenching his fists. Connor doesn’t try to say anything else, tries to leave Hank some breathing room to come to terms with this. Maybe he shouldn’t have sprung this on Hank so quickly; Connor had several nights worth of time to process this. It wasn’t fair to make Hank come to terms with it immediately.

“Why are you even _interested_ in this?” Hank asks suddenly, startling Connor as he turns away from the sink.

“Because you are,” Connor tries. “I am curious why, and I would like to try it.”

“That’s bullshit,” Hank argues. “I know better than most how damn willful you are, and you’ve never tried anything that _you_ aren’t interested in. So forget why _I_ wanna do it—why do _you_ wanna do it?”

Connor fights not to fidget; if he could blush, his face would be bright blue. But Hank waits patiently, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “It’s,” Connor starts, but stops. He understands now why Hank would not want to talk about this. It is very embarrassing, talking about what he wants. “I watched the videos. A couple of them, in greater detail.” He gives up on a losing battle and shifts in his chair. Hank says nothing. “What I saw...made me curious enough to want to try it.”

“So you liked what you saw,” Hank clarifies.

“Yes,” Connor replies stiffly. A slow grin spreads across Hank’s face.

“It turned you on, huh.”

“I was already in active mode, Hank,” Connor says, avoiding the question. Hank just laughs and sits down in his seat.

“You know what I meant,” he says, shit-eating grin wide on his face. He nudges Connor’s leg under the table, a gentle kick. “Betcha got a boner.”

“It was arousing, yes, but I have better control over myself than that.”

Connor doesn’t like this teasing, and it must show on his face, because Hank’s smile gentles. “We’ll give it a shot, okay? I don’t even know if Sumo’ll be up for it, but we can try if it’s something you really want to do.”

“I would like that,” Connor says quietly, relaxing a little in his seat. After a few more moments of silence, Connor says, “Your pornography folder was the best organized folder in your entire computer. It was very impressive.”

“Aw, shut up.”

 

* * *

 

They decide to wait until the weekend, when they will have more time to experiment and work with Sumo. The rest of the week seems to pass more slowly than normal, which logically Connor knows is just his anticipation making the days seem longer; illogically, Connor just wants the weekend to hurry up and _be_ , already.

Then it _finally_ is, and Connor wakes Hank up at eight-thirty sharp. “Hank, it is the weekend, which means it is time for Sumo to mount me.”

“‘S _early_ ,” Hank groans, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “It’s Saturday, let me _sleep_.”

“I will make breakfast, and if you are not awake after that, I will play with Sumo myself,” Connor declares. Hank just grunts into his pillow and falls back asleep.

For all his grumbling, Hank _is_ awake by the time Connor finishes frying the turkey bacon, and he grunts in appreciation when Connor presents him with a plate of food and mug of coffee. “Now I remember why I love you,” he mumbles, shovelling a bite of egg in his mouth.

“I will add it to the list,” Connor says, cleaning up the cooking mess.

“List?” Hank asks distractedly.

“The list of reasons you love me.”

Hank is silent long enough for Connor to turn back to him curiously. Hank is gazing at him with some emotion that Connor does not know how to quantify. “You, uh. You gotta list?”

“I do,” Connor confirms. “I love you very much, and the reasons you say you love me, even when you are joking, are very important to me.”

After a moment, Hank asks, “What are some of the reasons I love you?”

“Well,” Connor starts, voice thoughtful. “I look after you, and you often tell me you love me when I’m doing something that directly affects your physical well being, like cooking or cleaning or handing you a coat. But I think it is also the way I smile at you sometimes, and the way my hair curls, and the way I am always willing to listen to your ideas, no matter how bad they might be. You look at me when I do these things sometimes, in a way that I don’t really know how to describe, but it makes me feel warm. Content. And I hope that I look at you the same way, because I love you more than anything.”

Hank clears his throat, but his voice is still rough when he says, “Do we have to play with Sumo today? We could just stay in bed all day.”

“We don’t have to, if you would rather it just be you and me today,” Connor says. “But I still would like to try intercourse with Sumo.” Hank chuckles.

“‘Course you would. Don’t worry, we’ll go on and play with Sumo after breakfast.” Connor smiles and goes back to tidying. “Connor,” Hank says, and Connor turns back. “I do. See you, I mean. When you look at me like that. I love you, too.” Connor grins bashfully, and goes back to work.

 

* * *

 

Finally, _finally_ , breakfast is over and Connor and Hank are in the bedroom with Sumo. Connor wastes no time stripping down, though Hank hesitates. “You’re sure you still wanna do this?” he asks, patting Sumo distractedly.

“Yes,” Connor replies decisively, getting on the bed. “I have been considering this for several weeks. I have not had any second thoughts since deciding to bring this up to you.”

“Okay,” Hank says, slowly pulling his shirt over his head. Connor appreciates the view. “I don’t know if Sumo will do this on the bed. He might be more comfortable on the floor.”

“That would make sense,” Connor agrees. “Also, I will need more preparation than usual. I am not designed to easily take anything larger than the width of a human penis, so more lubrication will be necessary.”

“You won’t tear, will you?” Hank asks, looking concerned as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I shouldn’t,” Connor reassures him. “This is just so we stay on the safe side. Also, I enjoy the feeling of your fingers in me.”

“Alright, alright,” Hank grouses, reaching into the bedside table to grab lubrication. “Are my fingers on the list of reasons you love me?”

“Of course,” Connor answers innocently, spreading his legs. “Right underneath the length of your penis.”

“Ha ha,” Hank says flatly, settling between Connor’s knees. He takes a moment to slide his palms up the length of Connor’s thighs, and Connor relaxes under the familiar touch. “Goddamn, you’re just too pretty.”

“Hank,” Connor murmurs, nudging him with his knee. Hank gets with the program, so to speak, and slides a lubricated finger into Connor.

Connor sighs and lets his legs fall open wider, eyes slipping shut. He is already relatively loose, body ready in anticipation for sex, and Hank doesn’t hesitate working in a second. “How’s that feeling, Connor?” Hank asks, taking Connor’s half-erection in hand.

“It feels good,” Connor replies, back arching with Hank’s touch. “I love how wide your fingers are. They always stretch me so nicely.”

“Doesn’t feel good enough if you’re this coherent,” Hank jokes, spreading his fingers steadily. “You ready for a third?”

“I am,” Connor confirms, opening his eyes and nodding. “Give it to me, please.”

“I love it when you ask so pretty,” Hank says with a grin, pressing in another finger. He strokes Connor slowly, just keeping his interest as he stretches Connor slowly. He lifts one of Connor’s legs onto his shoulder, leaving Connor on display. “How many do you need for this, you think?”

“Four fingers should suffice,” Connor replies, eyes slipping closed again as he works his hips down against Hank’s touch. They do not usually go up to four, as Connor does not really need it, and when Hank fingers him, Connor does not usually possess the patience to work up to four. “And then,” his breath hitches as Hank’s fingers curl. “And then I want to try to get Sumo to mount me.”

“Alright, I got you,” Hank murmurs, spreading him wide with his fingers and rubbing his perineum with his thumb. “Still feelin’ okay?”

“Yes,” Connor breathes, erection twitching against Hank’s palm.

“Ready for number four?”

“Yes,” Connor says again. “And add some more lubrication, please.”

“As you wish,” Hank says dryly. He retracts his fingers, but Connor doesn’t have long to miss them before Hank is working them back in, wetter and wider. Connor gasps at the stretch, gripping the sheets below him. “Talk to me, Connor.”

“It’s, it’s good,” he says breathless. He can feel his body working to accommodate the extra girth that it doesn’t usually have to deal with. “Keep going, please.”

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Hank says, pressing a kiss to the inside of Connor’s knee. Connor just nods, mind too occupied by pleasure to respond.  “You look so good like this, just spread out for me.”

“ _Hank_ ,” Connor groans, clenching around Hank’s fingers.

“Just hungry for it, aren’t you?” he asks, spreading his fingers. “Just look at you, all messy and stupid for it, just for me.”

“Hank, I want,” Connor tries, hips bucking against Hank’s hands. “ _Hank—_ ”

“You want Sumo’s knot, huh?” Hank twists his fingers deeper. “So dirty. Tell me what you want, Connor.”

“I want Sumo’s knot,” he sobs, reaching down to tightly grip Hank’s arm.

“You’re so good for me, Connor,” Hank praises, leaning down to kiss him gently. Connor can barely respond, and Hank chuckles. “Come on, on the floor,” Hank instructs, sliding his fingers out. Connor gets down on shaky limbs, positioning himself on all fours with his posterior facing Sumo.

Sumo does not seem to understand what this means, even when Hank calls him over. He sniffs curiously at Connor’s entrance and licks over it a couple of times before he loses interest and begins walking away.

“Get him interested, Connor,” Hank says lazily, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Use your hands, show him what you’re trying to do.”

Connor crawls forward on all fours to get closer to where Sumo is watching him in curiosity. He follows Connor’s hand with his nose as it goes between his legs, and his hips give a startled twitch when Connor grips his sheath. Connor strokes him quickly at the base, behind where his knot will form, and Sumo starts humping excitedly at the air.

“Don’t give him too much, or you won’t be able to get his knot,” Hank reminds him. Connor releases Sumo, who immediately tries to mount his face. Connor tries to turn around and present properly, but it only serves to knock Sumo down.

“Here, hold on,” Hank says, strolling over. He gets a grip on Sumo’s collar and tugs him around behind Connor, and with a sharp whistle has Sumo mounting Connor excitedly.

His sheer weight has Connor’s elbows buckling, and before he has time for the metaphorical wind to be knocked from his metaphorical lungs, he feels Sumo’s cock at his entrance, and then _inside_ him.

Connor yelps at how suddenly he’s filled, and he’s jolted forward across the floor with the strength of Sumo’s thrusts. “Oh—Oh, _Hank_ ,” Connor gasps, reaching blindly and grasping the leg of Hank’s pants.

“There we go,” Hank murmurs, groaning as he sinks to the floor with his legs crossed. Connor’s hand latches onto Hank’s thigh. “Damn, you look good like this. How you feelin’? You okay?” Connor can only nod, squeezing Hank’s leg. He doesn’t know how to speak when he’s overwhelmed like this; Sumo is filling him up, his knot already catching on Connor’s rim. It feels like a fist pressing against his insides, and alerts pop up in his vision, warnings indicating that his sanitary channel is nearing its capacity, but Sumo is _still thrusting_ and _still growing_ , and it feels _so good_.

“ _Hank_ ,” Connor grits, tears in his eyes. “So, I’m so _full_.”

“You are,” Hank confirms, reaching around to rub his thumb around Connor’s stretched rim. Connor shudders at the contact, and he hears Hank huff out a laugh. “Saint Bernard knots are usually ‘round the size of a baseball. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” he groans, fingers kneading the fabric of Hank’s sweatpants. Finally, _finally_ Sumo stills, and Connor can feel where his drool is pooling between his shoulder blades. Sumo shifts, and Connor’s arousal shifts to alarm.

“Sumo, stay,” Hank orders, and Sumo stills. There is some rustling, and then a familiar crunching sound over Connor’s shoulder.

“Is he. Did you give him a treat?” Connor pants, squirming a little. His erection is demanding his attention, and it is difficult to tear his focus away.

“Gotta let a dog know when he did a good job,” Hank replies idly. “And on that note,” he adds, scooting over a little until he’s next to Connor’s hip. Connor jerks with a cry at the rough feel of Hank’s callused hand wrapping around his penis. Sumo moves, antsy, but doesn’t try to remove himself. Hank gives him another treat.

“Stop feeding him when he is inside of me, please,” Connor requests in what he feels is a perfectly reasonable tone.

“You’re acting pretty bitchy for a guy with a dog cock in his ass,” Hank comments, then chuckles. “Heh. _Bitchy_.”

“ _Hank_ ,” Connor whines.

“I know, buddy,” Hank says soothingly, stroking him slowly. “You tear?”

“No,” Connor manages. He fights to stay still; Sumo’s knot is still too large for him to pull out without leaving extensive damage. “Almost. But it, it feels so _good_ , Hank.”

“You look pretty good down there,” Hank says, speeding up his strokes. “All laid out under Sumo like this.”

“ _Hank_ ,” he begs, tears filling his eyes.

“Come for me, Connor,” Hank says, and Connor, not one to disobey orders from his Lieutenant, does.

But Sumo is big, and it takes a good ten minutes longer for his knot to shrink enough to work its way out of Connor. He slides out in a shivery mess and a surge of watery semen. Connor has been hard for the past nine minutes. “Hank,” he says deliriously. “Hank, fuck me, _please_.”

“Want me to get Sumo’s sloppy seconds, huh?” Hank teases, getting up stiffly. “C’mon, up on the bed. I’m too old for floor sex, ain’t gonna hurt my knees.”

Connor’s knees hold none of the stiffness of Hank’s, and he climbs onto the bed eagerly and spreads his legs. Hank lets out a low whistle of appreciation at the sight. “He really fucked you good, huh,” he says, pressing his thumb against Connor’s messy, sensitive rim.

“Yes,” Connor confirms breathlessly, shifting his hips into Hank’s touch.

“You sure you need me to fuck you, too?” Hank teases, even as he draws out his erection and gives it a couple lazy strokes.

“While I would appreciate it, it looks like you might need it more than I do,” Connor states, eyes trailing over Hank’s full, purpling erection before meeting Hank’s gaze. Hank snorts and moves forward between Connor’s thighs.

“Cheeky bastard,” he says affectionately. He lifts Connor’s left knee over his shoulder and starts pushing in. “Oh, wow. He really fucked you loose,” Hank says with interest, sliding in easily. Connor sighs in pleasure, letting his head tip back against the pillows. “You’re so wet, _Jesus_.”

“It’s Sumo’s semen,” Connor reminds him, and Hank groans as he gets fully seated.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, and does not wait his usual adjustment period before he begins fucking into Connor with short, sharp thrusts. “Ain’t gonna last too long this time, Connor,” he pants.

“I do not think I will, either,” Connor replies unsteadily, reaching down to grip his erection. Hank grunts and shoves Connor’s hand out of the way to start stroking it with quick, sharp pulls. “ _Hank_ ,” he gasps, hips jerking into Hank’s hand.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Hank mumbles, and comes with a shudder. His grip tightens on Connor’s erection, and Connor comes with a sharp cry, trembling with overstimulation as minor alerts pop up in his vision.

As Connor recovers, dismissing the alerts, Hank pulls out slowly and watches as his and Sumo’s semen leaks out of Connor. “ _Damn_ ,” he pants, pressing his thumb to Connor’s rim, encouraging more semen to dribble out. “Damn, that was good.”

He flops onto the bed next to Connor, and Connor rolls over to press his face into Hank’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” Hank asks, concern tingeing his voice. Connor nods, and Hank rolls over to face him and rub a hand over his shoulder. “You sure? The lack of words I’m getting from you is a little worrisome.”

“It was...a lot,” Connor says, at an unusual loss for words. “I enjoyed it very much, but I believe I need some time to process.”

“I get that,” Hank says easily, squeezing Connor’s shoulder. “Here, look at me?” Connor does, and Hank cups his face gently. “You did a good job, okay? Also...thanks. For indulging me.” He looks a little uncomfortable. Connor waits for him to continue. “I know it’s weird, and also pretty illegal. _Definitely_ against whatever protocols you were _originally_ programmed with, I guess.”

“You know that doesn’t matter to me,” Connor answers. It is still difficult for him to think, but he presses on. It’s important for Hank. “You wanted to try it, and eventually so did I. You are important to me.”

“Thanks,” Hank says softly. “You’re important to me, too.” Hank leans in and kisses him softly, then Connor lays his forehead on Hank’s shoulder, and they rest.

In the corner, Sumo stretches out, _more_ than happy with how today has gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i briefly considered not leaving in the "list of reasons i love you" bit because i felt like it was almost TOO sweet and cute for a bestiality fic, but guess what? i love these boys and they love each other and i thought it was cute, so.


End file.
